


Philia

by akire_yta



Series: prompt ficlets [309]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 06:58:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7747654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prelude prompted: "why do I love you?" for John and Eos</p>
            </blockquote>





	Philia

“Why do I love you?”

John paused, lifting his head from the intricacies of Five’s circuits to consider the infinite blackness beyond.  “You love me?” he asked, wincing at the shaky, surprised note in his voice.

“I have been researching the subject,” she said, so brisk and businesslike and so _Eos_  that John choked on a laugh.  He rehooked his tool to his belt, and after giving his tether a quick test-tug, let himself float off Five’s hull.

“What are your findings?” he asks, enjoying the way his limbs float in zero-G, letting his mind clear of the minutiae of his daily chores.

“Conflicting.”  Here Eos’ voice in his ear dipped and quietened, sounding instantly younger.  “The Classical Greek hexology still seems the most valid system of classification.”

“And we fit those six?” John asked, drifting, patient, letting Eos learn at her own pace.

“You are my friend, my first friend.  Perhaps my only.”  She keeps going, bulldozing over John before he could even get his mouth open to protest.  “And I am deeply satisfied with our friendship.  So philial love, yes.  You are patient with me, and I feel I am very patient with you.”  John’s stifled protest turned into a little squeak of annoyance, and Eos’ voice grew warm and fond.  “Like now.  Ludus seems therefore to be a love we share.  Even though we perhaps have not known each other as long as some others, I would argue there exists pragma between us.  I know who I am, and I feel you know who you are, and we are both comfortable with who we are, in ourselves and in each other.  Therefore, we both meet the definition for philautia.  Do you agree?”

“I am open to your argument,” John agreed cautiously. “That’s four.  You said six?”

“Agape seems to be built into the very kernel of International Rescue and all it stands for.  As you are a Thunderbird, and I have proven myself useful, we might lay claim to shared feelings of agape. But the last is problematic.”

John exhaled quietly, the trap he had foreseen in this conversation finally closing.  “Eros.  Erotic love.”

Eos’ camera was a dark glint in a dark sky, her avatar a brilliant electric blue.  “Sexual passion is not only absent, but unnecessary between us.”

“Agreed,” he said vehemently.  John’s groping fingers found the handhold he was seeking, welded into Five’s very frame.  “Eros also refers to passion,” he noted, dredging up long-forgotten philosophy classes as he tried to navigate this conversation.

“Particularly physical passion.  I have no sole, individual physicality, and you have a tendency to treat your body like an instrument.”

“Eos!” He chided, staring into her avatar. The bars curved and flashed to make her circle wink.

“Can’t argue with evidence, John,” she teased.  

John braced himself on the hull.  “Eros was about passion.  Your arrival here was pretty passionate.”  He tested himself against his grip, feeling his muscles pull and strain with the motion.  “Why _do_ you love me, Eos?”

She sounded frustrated, her avatar flashing orange.  “We align with the research, but do not fit in the details.  Our relationship defies statistical classification.  It is most frustrating.”

John smiled, catching the reflection on the inside of his helmet.  “Alternate hypothesis,” he proposed. “You love me because I love you.”  Even as he said it, he knew it to be true, and the knowledge settled him.

“Recursive logic,” she snapped back.  “Also possibly reductivist.”

John laughed softly and began climbing back to the open relay box and his work.  “Possibly.  Or possibly I love you and you love me, and together we are home in ways the Ancient Greeks or anyone else in your research could never imagine.”

Eos’ silence was thoughtful.  John untethered his tools and resumed his work.


End file.
